The Edge of a Dime
by Jinxed-Wood
Summary: It had been ten days since Mary had awoken from a coma, twelve days since they'd caught the guy who'd shot her, and two weeks since she’d taken a bullet in the gut...
1. Chapter 1

It had been ten days since Mary had awoken from a coma, twelve days since they'd caught the guy who'd shot her, and two weeks since she'd taken a bullet in the gut. The pain still nagged like a proverbial mother-in-law, but she didn't see why they wouldn't allow her to go home and wallow in peace. Her doctor had overruled her, however, and she was stuck with another five days of bed rest before they let her out.

Marshall had jokingly looked under her bed to see if she was marking the days off on the wall with the edge of a spoon. "It isn't prison, Mare," he said, amused, "Which is probably a good thing, because no judge in their right mind would grant you parole."

"Prison?" Mary snorted. "This isn't a prison; this is Guantánamo bay. they've even got torture sessions."

Marshall fell into the chair beside the bed. "I think you may find that they actually call those visiting hours," he drawled

"Well, will somebody please explain to me the difference? Because, either way, I'm thinking I'd rather get all of my teeth extracted, without anaesthesia, than go through another three hours with my mother. She doesn't even have the decency to bring candy, just fruit. If I eat another grape I might start to ferment."

"Oh, c'mon, Jinx ain't _that… _bad." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Oh, yes she is, and you know it. You can't even look me in the eye, right now," Mary said, exasperated. "Do you know what she spent her entire visit doing, last night? She explained to me why it was all her fault that I grew up so self involved, and that I didn't realise how much of a strain it was on _her_ to have a daughter in law enforcement - and, to top _that_ off, Brandi and Raph kept chipping in, like some god damned trippy Greek chorus." She didn't mention the fact that Raph had also kept throwing her meaningful looks throughout the whole debacle; she didn't think Marshall would thank her for reminding him that Raph knew what she really did for a living. "And the staff won't give me a wheelchair, anymore," she added. "What's up with that?"

"That may have something to do with the wheelies you were pulling in the corridor, the other day…" Marshall said, with a sly grin

"Oh, come on, that old geezer should 'a seen me coming."

"Look on the bright side, there's jello."

"But not the _good _jello," Mary grumbled. "Hospital jello should never come in a natural colour. It should be blue, or green, not _orange_; somebody might think there's actual _fruit_ in it, or something."

"Oh, you're a regular Pollyanna, aren't you?"

Mary pouted. "Now you're being mean."

"I brought chocolate."

Mary snatched the bar out of his hands, and grinned when she saw the brand; her favourite. "You're forgiven – now give me the run down." She bit down on a chunk.

Marshall sighed. "You know that if Stan caught me doing this, I'd end up doing desk duty for a month?"

"Oh good, you can keep me company until I pass my eval."

"Now who's being mean?"

"But you love me anyway – now, give!"

Rolling his eyes, Marshall pulled a notepad out of his breast pocket. "First up, the Currys…"

Mary's nodded, remembering them. The wife had been a lawyer who had found herself working for the wrong kind of law firm; the husband hadn't been too happy with her giving evidence. "Has Pete been giving you trouble, again?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Marshall admitted. "Lucy is pregnant, and he wanted to be able to tell the grandparents. I talked him out of it."

Mary's face brightened. "Lucy's pregnant? She's been trying for a while – next?"

"Richard Briggs," Marshall drawled. "Same old, same old."

"Kerb crawling for hookers, again," Mary said. "I wish that guy would get it into his thick skull that being in witness protection doesn't give him immunity to local prostitution laws."

"The local PD wrote him up, this time," Marshall said.

Mary frowned, as her mind turned over the situation. "We can't let that get to court. Crabtree still has connections, even if he is doing life in Leavenworth."

Marshall nodded. "I've already got the judge to settle out of court. He'll be doing community service for the next two months."

"Let's hope it'll wean him off the misdemeanours," Mary said, as Marshall flipped his notepad closed. "That's it?"

"Yup."

Mary gave him a long look. "Haven't you figured out, by now, that you really, really can't lie to me?

"I'm not...lying."

Mary rolled her eyes. At least he had the grace to look embarrassed. "I hate to break it to you, but your left eye does this little twitchy thing when you fib." She reached out, slapping at air as he ducked his head away. "No fair! I'm incapacitated; you have to stay within punching and pinching range."

"And I'm so glad that nobody else gets to hear these conversations," he grumbled, but he sat up straight, away, and she clipped his ear. "I am so whipped," he said, with a wince.

Mary took another bit out of her chocolate bar and grinned. "You'd better believe it - now tell me about the one you've been holding back on."

Marshall gave her a rueful look. "They're not one of yours."

Mary waved magnanimously. "Hey, what are partners for?"

"Uh_ huh_," Marshall said.

"Oh, just _tell_ me, already," Mary said, impatiently. "We both know you're going to cave. This whole being injured thing is _so_ making you weak against my will." She fluttered her eyelashes, just for good measure. He drew back.

"Just so we're clear," he said. "I'd rather you'd not do that. It's…creepy."

Mary smirked. "I'm not making any promises," she said. "Now spill! I need something other than linen and china patterns to think about."

He gave her wary look. "Do I want to know?"

"Let's just say Vegas is looking real good, right now," Mary grumbled. "Well, what are you waiting for? I want all the gory details – there's gore, right? There's nothing fluffy with a tasteful flower pattern involved, is there?"

"You're going stir crazy. You know that, don't you?"

"Marshall, so help me, if you don't tell me now—"

"John Butler, married to Kim Butler, with one daughter, named Sally, aged six. Witnessed a professional hit, and the assassin is still at large. No name, just a physical description, probably ex-ops. The threat assessment is nearly as thick as _War and Peace_."

"Yes!" Mary crowed. "Thank you, _God._ What's the game plan?"

"Well, I'm hoping for more than an artist's impression of the hitman, before I make any firm decisions, so I'm running them through the hotel circuit, and not letting them stay any place for more than one night in a row."

"Stressful with a kid," Mary observed.

"They'll manage."

"Still, if you got me a cell phone—"

"And potentially fry all the electronics on the ward – I don't think so," Marshall said dryly.

"But what if something important comes up?"

"Like the wrong shade of jello?"

"Marshall, please, I need a get out of jail card."

Marshall leaned back as understanding showed in his eyes. "It's that bad?"

"There's tulle involved," she said flatly. "And lace."

He shuddered. "A compromise," he said. "No phone, but I'll get you a pager – for _emergencies_, not for ice cream runs."

"Now, when have I ever done something like that?"

He gave her a look.

"Other than _that_ time, of course," she amended, "Swing by in the morning?"

"Before my rounds," he promised. "I'll even bring—"

"Marshall, honey! Here you are, again," The door swung open, as Jinx waltzed into the room. "You really don't have to do this, you know. It isn't as if you're family."

Mary felt something inside her cringe. _Sorry_, she mouthed at him.

A crooked smile flitted across his face before he turned to Jinx. "You know me, Jinx, I'm a glutton for punishment." He offered her his seat, and she sat down.

"Where's Brandi, Mom?" she said, changing the subject.

"She and Peter are getting us coffees at the vending machine. Raph is parking the car." Mary heard the reproval in her voice, but let it go. She didn't really want another lecture on how to treat Raph. It was none of her business, anymore than her relationship with Marshall was.

Marshall coughed uncomfortably as he backed out of the room. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "And we'll talk about that…thing."

"Yeah," Mary said, and wondered at the sense of sadness she felt when the door closed behind him.

"That man really cares for you," Jinx observed. "It'd be trouble, if you felt the same way."

"Mom," Mary said. "Please, _please_ shut up."

Jinx gave her a sharp look, but didn't say anything more until Brandi and Peter came through the door.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

She should have realised something was up from the moment Jinx walked into the room, her barbs already flying. Attack was always the best form of defence, as far as her mother was concerned, and Jinx had the instincts of a Rottweiler. Marshall had once told her that it was the one character trait they shared. Mary had made him pay for_ that _observation for weeks.

"We should set him up with a date," Jinx said, the moment Marshall had left the room.

"You set _Marshall_ up with a date?" Mary echoed disbelievingly. "The woman who married a bank robber with a gambling addiction?"

"That's just like you, Mary, putting me down when I was just trying to help," her mother sniffed.

Count to ten, Mary thought, count _slowly_. "Mom, I don't think Marshall needs any help in that department," she said "And why the sudden interest in his personal life?"

"You see, that's your problem right there, Mary, you never see what's right in front of you," Jinx said. "Do you know how many times I've visited and found Marshall already here?"

"No, I don't, Mother, why don't you tell me?" Mary sighed. She could see the next three hours stretching out in front of her. It didn't look pretty.

"Every single time, Mary; there hasn't been one day when he hasn't already been here, when I arrived," She wrinkled her nose. "I mean, what is Raph supposed to think?"

Mary looked at her mother suspiciously. "I don't know, Mom, what _is_ Raph supposed to think?"

"Coffee!" The door swung open, and Brandi trotted into the room, Peter on her heels. "And Peter found Danish – look!"

"Danish!" Mary said. Not quite chocolate, on the treat scale, but damned well nearly there.

"This is not the time to change the subject!" Jinx said.

"What subject?" Brandi said, hers eyes darting between the two of them.

The Danish halted halfway to Mary's mouth. "Mother," she said sweetly. "Why is Brandi looking so nervous?"

"I don't know what you talking about, Mary," Jinx said primly. "Stop changing the subject."

"Yeah!" Brandi said, querulously. "What she…said." By her side, Peter closed his eyes slowly.

"Hey, Peter, do you have anything else to add to this family conversation – perhaps a blank denial, followed by a nervous shifting of the feet—"

"Well, _really_," Jinx said. "All I suggested was maybe we could help Marshall get a date. There's no need to be so defensive—"

The door swung open again, and Raph came through, a swath of red roses in his hands. "Sorry I took so long, it took me for ever to find a parking—" Mary gave him a chilly look, and he came to screeching halt. "What?" he said. "I thought you liked roses?"

"Sure I do, when they're still in the ground," she snapped. She saw Raph's eyes slide over to Jinx, and sighed, realising where he'd got such a daft idea. "They're lovely, Raph, thank you," she said eventually. It wasn't _his_ fault that Jinx had been telling him porkies.

"I'll just go and get a vase, shall I?" he said, and backed out of the room. Mary felt a pang of guilt, but quickly squashed it. She had more important things to deal with. Like the fact Brandi and Jinx were lying to her. The last time that happened, her house got trashed by the FBI.

Brandi scowled at her. "You know, you really give him such a hard time, and he doesn't deserve it—"

"Can it, Brandi, Raph and me are none of your business," she snapped. "However, the fact that you and Mom are obviously keeping something from me, and Peter seems to know too, makes me more than a little nervous," she said. "And you know what happens when I get a little nervous – I get tetchy."

"Well, if you think I'm just going to sit here, and take this, you've got another thing coming, Missy!" Jinx said, getting to her feet.

The door opened. "Mary," Raph said, and Mary immediately heard the worry in his voice. "I think there may be a news reporter sniffing around outside. I overheard him talking to one of the nurses, asking which room the marshal was in."

An alarm bell went off in the back of Mary's mind. "Brandy, give me your phone," she said flatly.

"But the Doctors said—"

"Just do it, Brandi," Raph said quietly.

Instinct told her to phone Marshall, but her mother's words, coupled with the fact that she knew Marshall was hip deep in a serious assignment, prompted her to ring Stan instead.

"_Brandi?_" he said, puzzlement showing in his voice.

"Stan, it's me," Mary said "We may have a situation at the hospital. Apparently, there's some sort of newspaper type asking questions about me."

His voice became immediately businesslike. "_Description?_"

Mary turned to Raph. "What did he look like?"

"Dirty blond hair, forties, around six foot tall," Raph shrugged. "He looked as if he worked out, but other than that, nothing really stood out."

"Get that, Stan?" Mary said, into the phone.

"_On it,_" Stan said briskly "_Oh, and Mary?_"

"Yeah?"

"_Give Brandi her phone back._"

"You're the boss."

"_That's not an answer—_"

She slid the phone closed. "It's probably best if you all went home tonight, until this is all cleared up," she said.

"But we only just got here," Raph protested.

"I know, but we don't want to take any chances, do we?" she said, giving him a meaningful look.

"Oh. Right," he said, clearing his throat. This was one of the advantages of Raph knowing what she really did for a living.

Brandi reluctantly got to her feet. "Are you sure you'll be okay here, all by yourself?" she asked.

Something inside Mary melted, dissipating her irritation. "It's just protocol, Brandi. Don't worry about it."

"I'll get the car," Raph muttered, and Mary watched him disappear out the door, without even looking back. This was the downside of Raph knowing what she did; he now knew when she was lying.

"I'll go with you," Jinx said, with a toss of her head. Brandi rolled her eyes, and Mary pushed down the urge to laugh.

Peter got to his feet. "We'll see you tomorrow," he said quietly.

"Bring Danish," Mary joked.

They were at the door, when Brandi turned. "Oh, my phone!"

Mary smirked. "Tomorrow," she said.

Brandi folded her arms. "I'm not a complete idiot, you know; I know why they don't allow them in hospitals!"

"I promise not to phone Australia while standing next to any life support systems," Mary shot back.

"You'd better not – or you're paying the bill," Brandi grumbled.

The door closed for a final time, and Mary let her head slump back onto the pillow. Did people go crazy in hospitals? She wondered if there'd been a study done. Marshall would know.

Speaking of which…

Brandi and Jinx were up to something, and she couldn't afford to let that sort of thing slide anymore.

* * *

It was not a good situation, thought Marshall, as he looked at the young family through the rear-view mirror, and it wasn't going to get better anytime soon. The feds were not having any luck tracking down the hitman, and the longer he was at large, the less likely he would be caught. Chances were, the Butler family would be in the witness programme for life.

"How long before we reach the next hotel," John Butler asked softly, as he stroked the hair of his daughter, who had fallen asleep on his lap.

"We're nearly there," he said. He had picked one of the motels strung out on highway 66, for tonight. He'd figured the desert air might make a nice change from all the city pollution they'd been breathing in, the last few days.

Kim didn't say anything. Come to thing about it, she hadn't said anything since he'd picked them up. Shock, perhaps? Maybe he should look into getting her someone to talk to – he'd ask John about it later.

His cell phone sprang to life, and Marshall eyed the caller ID. It was Stan. He put on his ear plug. "What's up, boss?" he said.

"_Just got a call from Mary; it seems there is some news guy sniffing around the hospital._"

Marshall blinked. "Want me to go check it out?" he asked, wondering why Mary hadn't rung him first – and where the hell had she'd gotten her paws on a phone.

"_No, we're on top of it,_" he said. "_The reason we're calling you is that the description Mary gave us has a resemblance to the perp that's after your witnesses. It's probably nothing but…"_

Marshall felt something crawl up your spine. "Got you," he said. "I'll organise some extra protection for tonight." He heard Stan sigh on the other end of phone.

"_Marshall, you know what else this means, don't you?_"

"No more visits to the hospital until we're sure?" Marshall asked, reluctantly.

"_Relax, Marshall, it's just a precaution. It'll probably be all cleared up by the morning,_" Stan said.

"Let's hope so," Marshall said grimly. "See you then."

"What was that about?" John asked, as he hung up.

"Nothing, just some precautionary measures," Marshall prevaricated. "You know what they say, better safe than sorry."

"So, it's nothing we have to worry about, then?"

"Just routine," Marshall said, lying smoothly. The Butlers had enough to worry about. His phone began to ring again, and he saw Brandi's name light up the screen. Oh well, that was one mystery solved. He saw the nervous expression on John's face, in the mirror, and smiled reassuringly before answering. "Hey, Mare, how's tricks? I hear you've had a visitor?"

"_Wow, would you look at that? My partner is psychic._"

"Your partner has a boss who keeps them in the loop, unlike some I could say," Marshall drawled.

"_Ouch, that hurt,_" she said. "_What did he say?_"

"Nothing that we can discuss, right now."

"_Ah, they're still with you?_" He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.

"Just spit it out, Mare," he sighed.

"_Jinx and Brandi are up to something, and I think they've dragged Peter and Raph into it, too, and they won't tell me what it is, and the last time that happened, there were felony charges involved,_" The words tumbled out in a rush, and Marshall let out a laugh.

"Let me guess, you want me to swing by and check if the house is still standing?"

"_Would you?"_ The relief in her voice was almost palpable. "_It's been driving me nuts._"

"I'll pop by in the morning and make it look like I'm doing a bagel run – any chance there's something there you might need? It'll make the impromptu visit a bit more believable." But not much, he thought, ruefully.

"_My glock?_" she asked, hopefully, and Marshall rolled his eyes, the _no_ automatically coming to his lips; then he hesitated, remembering the conversation he'd just had with Stan.

"The 27, not the 23," he said. "You still keep it in the same place? Same combination?"

"_Uh, yeah_," He could hear the shock in her tone. "_Wow,_ that_ was a little too easy…_

"Don't question it," he said. "Just be happy you're getting your own way.

"_Hah, like that is going to happen,_" she snorted. "_Do I sound like Zen girl to _you_?_"

"Bye, Mary," he said.

"_Oh, you are _so_ holding out on me. Is this one of those 'don't tell the shot girl' scenarios? Because I've already told you what I think about those—_"

Smirking, Marshal hung up on her. He was doing her a favour, really.

"Girlfriend?" John drawled, from the back.

"Nothing that simple," Marshall said dryly. "Trust me."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

It was a long night, and something told Marshall it was going to be an even longer day, as he pulled up in front of Mary's house. He eyed the license plate of the blue Camaro in the driveway, and wondered if it was one of Peter's as he grabbed the bag of bagels in the passenger seat and hopped out of the car. Habit made him eye the street, and he spotted the protection detail at the end of the road; probably Stan's idea, just in case Mary's reporter friend found her home address.

He walked up to the house slowly, as he mentally rehearsed his excuses. They sounded more and more flimsy with every step. "Hey, Jinx," he muttered, under his breath, "What am I doing here? Oh, just popping in to collect some stuff for Mary. Why didn't she ask you instead? Oh, it's Marshal stuff, you know how it is…"

Of course, they didn't have a clue how it was - with the exception of Raph…

As if on cue, Raph opened the door before he even knocked. "Is Mary alright?"

Marshall blinked, and then realised it what it might have looked like, with him turning up at the door first thing in the morning. "Mary's fine," he said. "She just wanted me to drop by and collect some things."

Raph frowned. "What kind of things?" he asked.

"Oh, you know…work things," Marshall said.

"Huh," Raph said.

Marshall took a breath. "Look, Mary asked me to come 'round and check if everything is alright, I agreed because _you _know as well as I that neither of us will get any peace until she feels she has got her own way; so why don't you let me inside and I'll collect her stuff, and then I can tell her truthfully, that I came around, and checked the house out, and Jinx and Brandi haven't burned it down…yet."

"Raph's lips twitched. "Are those bagels?" he asked.

"With cream cheese," Marshall said, lifting the bag. "Open sesame?" He had a key, but it only seemed polite to ask – even if it made his teeth ache.

Raph took the bag, and let the door fall open. "Actually, you're not our first guest, this morning. Jinx's cousin's friend's daughter, Lauren, is here too."

Marshall came to a shuddering halt, halfway through the doorway. "Lauren?" he asked.

"You've never heard of her, either, huh?" Raph said, with a small smile. "Apparently, she just got into town after being away for a while…or something like that."

"_Apparently _being the operative word," Marshall drawled, ignoring the puzzled look on Raph's face as he made a beeline for the voices in the kitchen. At least he now knew why Brandi and Jinx were acting so skittish.

"Marshall," Jinx said, jumping to her feet. "Well, this is a surprise…"

"I'll just bet it is," Marshall said flatly, before turning his attention to the extra addition at the table. Blonde hair, athletic build…oh crap, she really _was_ Mary's sister.

"Hi, I'm Lauren, I'm the daughter of—" she started

Marshall cut her off "Don't even go there. I know who you are," he said, "Which is why I'm giving you five minutes to get out of here before I take out my badge and make it official."

"Marshall, what are you doing?" Jinx said.

"No - what are _you_ doing, Jinx?" Marshal asked, rounding on her. "You know, as well as I, that not only does Lauren know the whereabouts of a known fugitive, she also bugged the house of Federal Marshall. That kind of thing is sort of frowned upon under this state's legislature."

"I just wanted to know if she was okay, that's all," Lauren said, her face blanching.

"I'm sure you did," Marshall said. "And that's why I'm giving you enough time to get going. You'd better take it."

"Would someone tell me what the hell is going on here?" Raph asked quietly.

"You didn't tell him?" Marshall asked Jinx sharply.

"Well, it seemed best not to say anything," Jinx said. "You know…just in case."

"Say what?" Raph said. "Would someone please tell me what this is about?"

"Lauren isn't a family friend, Raph," Brandi said, hesitantly. "She's my half sister…Mary's too."

Raph slowly sat down on a stool. "I see," he said, quietly. "And when were you going to tell me this?"

"Oh, Raph, honey," Jinx said. "We didn't want to drag you into it, especially after all the nastiness the last time she was here."

"Which reminds me," Marshall said, as he pulled out his phone. "We need to make sure this place is clean of surveillance devices."

"I wouldn't do that," Lauren said stiffly.

"I think the correct phrasing is, _I wouldn't do that again_," Marshall said abruptly, "And you'll excuse me if I don't take your word for it."

"Well, _really,_" Jinx said. "There's no need to be like this."

Marshall ignored her and waited for Stan to pick up. "_Marshall, anything up?_"

"After a matter of speaking," he said. "Although, not what you might think." He eyed Lauren as she picked up her coat, and silently walked to the front door. Jinx and Brandi trailed after her. "I need one of the tech guys to come down and do another sweep of the house."

"_You think the FBI have paid another visit?_"

"I think _somebody_ has," Marshall prevaricated.

"_Okay, I'll get somebody on it – any news on the Butler situation?_"

"No, I left them about an hour ago with their protection detail. No new developments. Any news at your end?"

He heard the sigh down the phone. "_We checked the hospital's CCTV. His face never turned towards the cameras and his head was always down; we could 't get one single clear shot of his face - even in the car park, it was a wash; he used public transport._"

"That isn't good," Marshall said.

"_Yeah, it's looking more and more like this guy is a pro._"

"How's the security at the hospital?" he asked.

"_Dismal,_" Stan said flatly. "_We have a detail covering the main exits and entrances, and a guy at Mary's door, but you know as well as I that if he really wants to get to her…"_

"We should look into moving her," Marshall said. Giving Mary her gun was beginning to sound like a better idea with every passing moment.

Stan snorted._ "Yeah, good luck with that; keep me posted. "_

"And I though you were supposed to be the big bad boss," Marshall said, as he eyed Raph, who was staring at him. "Gotta go, Stan," he said.

"You knew about Lauren," Raph said, the moment he closed the phone.

"It came up," Marshall admitted. "In the process of our inquiries."

"And what kind of inquiries were those?"

"The kind that gets Brandi locked up in prison, and Mary searching for bugs in the living room," he said.

"She said nothing to me about it."

Marshal gave him a long look. "This isn't a conversation you should be having with me."

"You're her partner, I'm her fiancé."

"Yes, I'm glad we cleared that up, because for a moment there, I wasn't quite sure." From the second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. "Sorry, forget I said that," he said. "Let's just pretend this conversation didn't happen."

"You're as bad as her, you know," Raph said. "You never want to talk about anything _real_."

"Well I _could,_ but then I'd have to kill you," Marshall deadpanned.

"See? That's it, right _there_. That sums up both your and Mary's attitude to people."

"Actually, I think that sums up the Official Secrets Act," Marshall countered. "A line we both know Mary has already crossed."

"And you're pissed about that," Raph realised.

"It's against regulations for a reason," Marshall said slowly. "It's my life on the line, too, Raph, not just Mary's - and let's drop this subject before Brandi and Jinx get back." He stalked into Mary's room, and opened her wardrobe, dragging out her gun safe. He needed to get out of this house before he blew a fuse.

"You seem to know your way around here," Raph observed softly, following him.

"I know where she keeps her guns and her scotch," Marshall answered, as he opened the safe and took out her 27, and a box of ammunition. "It's hardly intimate knowledge."

"That depends on the person," Raph said.

"Is this conversation going somewhere?" Marshall asked, with a sigh.

"No, I suppose not," Raph said, before pulling a face. "It's just the last couple of weeks have been a real eye opener for me, you know. I think I've spent more time with Mary in the last two weeks, than in the six months before that. After all, she's always busy, and with all the stuff with family, and her work, she never sits still…and I used to _complain _about that. I thought we never communicated properly because we didn't take the time to; but the last two weeks have taught me that that isn't really our problem….and I'm trying to find out what is."

"I see" Marshall said slowly standing up. "Well, what can I say? Mary is a riddle, wrapped up in a hedgehog, and embroiled in an enigma."

"So," Raph said slowly, after a moment. "You're saying Mary is…Russia?"

"More like a very _prickly_ part of Siberia," Marshall admitted. "And I'm not really sure where this analogy is going, so I'm going to stop right now, while I still can." He grabbed a small carry all from the back of the wardrobe and deposited Mary's gun case and ammunition in it.

"You're going to see Mary now?" Raph asked quietly.

"I can't, security reasons," he said "I'm just going to pass this along."

"Oh, right," Raph said. Was it Marshall's imagination, or was there a slight lift in his voice? He supposed he couldn't blame the guy.

Jinx and Brandi were already in the living area again when he came out of the bedroom, and Marshall shrugged the bag onto his shoulder. "I'll see you soon," he said.

"Don't you count on it, Marshall Mann," Jinx said stiffly,

"Mom, stop being such a pain," Brandi said. "She doesn't mean it, Marshall."

"Oh yes I do!"

"And that would be my cue to go," Marshall said, before pausing at the door. "Anything else you two want to add to the events of this morning? Anything Mary should know?" He watched them exchange a look.

"You're not going tell Mary Lauren was here, are you?" Brandi asked quietly.

"I think it's best that I leave, now," Marshall said. He stepped out onto the porch, and let the door close behind him. "Free at last," he muttered under his breath, before pulling out his phone. He needed a favour.

_"Marshall?"_

"Hey, Bobby D," he said, I need you to do me a favour. I have to get Mary's gun to her, but I'm not able to visit her at the hospital, at the moment—"

"_And you need somebody else with a badge to run the gun through security for you_," Bobby finished for him. "_Why not Stan?"_

Because that's not the only favour I need to ask," Marshall said. "I also want you to run the license plate of a blue Camaro for me…"

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

It was already after nine when Mary opened her eyes, tired and disorientated. Hospital care was making her soft. She looked at the clock beside her bed and frowned as she looked at the untouched breakfast on the trolley over her bed. Marshall was definitely idiotic enough to let her sleep In, but there was no way in hell he'd leave her breakfast untouched. The toast would have been half eaten, the jam gone…which meant he hadn't been here yet.

Something was up.

She sat up in the bed, wincing as the dull ache in her abdomen sharpened, and called out to the guard she knew would be standing outside the door. "Hey, you out there, get your ass in here!"

The door opened a crack, and a uniformed police officer looked into the room nervously; Bobby had definitely been spreading her reputation around. "Yes, ma'am?" he asked.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Get in here, and close the door, you idiot."

"I'm not supposed to—"

"Just get in here, damn it!"

Cautiously, the officer slid into the room. "Is there something you need, ma'am?" he asked cautiously.

"No, I just called you in here for the hell of it," Mary said. "Of _course_ there's something I need – I need to know what the hell is going on!"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm not supposed to divulge any information that might upset the course of our investigation—"

"Yada, yada, yada," Mary grumbled. "Bobby got to you, didn't he?"

"He did say that you might be a bit…insistent."

Mary pulled a face. "Yeah, I'll just bet he did. What's your name?"

"Uh, Mike Richards, ma'am."

"Nice to meet you Mike, my name is Mary, not ma'am. Got that? "

"Yes, Ma…ry."

"Dude, you're hopeless," She waved him off. "Scram, before I eat you for breakfast."

Mary noted the alacrity with which he stepped out of the room; anyone would think he was afraid of her, or something. She waited to hear the door click before she pulled out Brandi's cell.

"_I was just about to call you,_" Marshall said, when he answered. She could hear his car engine in the background.

"What have I told you about lying to me?" Mary asked, as she eyed the toast on the tray, and picked a slice up. It was cold, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

_"I know, but sometimes you have to try,_" he said.

"You're going to make me work for this, aren't you?" she said, as she took a bite. Yuck.

"_You're not going to like it,"_ he admitted.

"Yeah, I'm getting a lot of that, lately," Mary said, as she dropped the toast back onto the plate. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it? One being cold toast and ten being an earthquake hitting Albuquerque…?"

"_Think a mountain of cold toast_," he said. "_Served with __really _stale coffee."

"Ugh," Mary said. "You're just trying to gross me out, aren't you?"

"_And, from the sound of it, I think I may have succeeded._" He sounded amused, but Mary could hear the tension underneath.

"You _do_ know I won't be stuck in this bed forever, don't you," Mary asked. "Why didn't you come to visit, this morning?"

"_You don't know?_"

Mary's eyes narrowed as she heard the surprise in his voice. "Know what?"

"_Damn it,_" Marshall said "_I thought Stan would have filled you in, by now._"

"Marshall," Mary said evenly. "If you don't tell me what's going on _right_ now, I swear to God I will reach through this phone and throttle you."

"_That's the partner I know and love._"

"Marshall!"

He broke. "_Apparently, there's a good chance your mystery guest from yesterday might be the hitman after my witnesses_," Marshall said. "_And, as Stan is not a great believer in coincidences, I've been warned off._"

"Crap," Mary said, succinctly. "He must have heard about a Marshal getting shot on the news, and then did the rounds until he found me."

"He still doesn't know you're WitSec," Marshall pointed out.

"But he made an educated guess," Mary said. "When a wounded Marshal's name isn't released to the public, it's usually a good indication."

"_Yeah_," Marshall agreed. "_So he tracked you down, through trial and error, and then what? Waited to see who turned up to visit you?_" There was pause. "_I don't like the sound of that_," he said quietly.

"You know what else I don't like the sound of?" Mary drawled. "I know that Albuquerque sometimes feels like the centre of the universe, but something tells me this guy wasn't just happening by. He must have had a good idea the Butlers were here in the first place."

"_And then he checked the recent news, and hunkered down when he heard about you getting shot_," Marshall finished. "_I've already checked the Butler's phone records, and checked their online traffic; they're not the leak_."

"Why am I getting a real bad feeling about this?" Mary grumbled.

She heard the indrawn breath over the phone. "_Yeah, well, I've got other news. Brace yourself, your day is about to get worse_."

"Oh shit, Mom's sold the house, hasn't she?" Mary said, sinking back onto her pillows.

"_No, the house is intact – or as intact as it can be, with half it's partition walls pocked marked with holes…_"

"We're not discussing that," Mary told him firmly. "The FBI caused the damage, they can fix it, too."

"_Mare, just fix the damage, and send them the bill._"

"I'm not paying for something I didn't do, Marshall," Mary said. "And you're doing that tangent thing, again, I hate it when you do that."

"_Fine_," Marshall said. "_I-found-Lauren-in-your-house-this-morning-having-breakfast-in-your-kitchen_."

"Jeeze, Marshall," Mary said. "You couldn't have softened that up a little?"

"_And be accused of going off on a tangent?_" he drawled. "_Heaven forbid_."

"Jackass," Mary pronounced.

"_Do you want to hear the story or not?_"

"Well, _duh,_" Mary said, "I'll need to have my facts straight, when I crucify my family with them."

"_It's not as bad as it sounds_," Marshall said. "_I think she was genuinely worried about you, and came to see if you were okay._"

"Oh yeah? And how did she know I wasn't okay to begin with?"

"_Do you really want me to answer that?"_"

"You think Jinx lied when she said she didn't know how to contact her," Mary said flatly.

"_I called the tech guys in, to check the house for bugs again, but... yeah, I think so_," he said. "_That's a conversation _you_ should have with her, thought, not me._"

"Coward." Just thinking about it made Mary feel tired. "Please tell me you've got a lead."

"_She was driving a blue Camaro_," Marshall said. "_I've got Bobby D tracking down her license plate - which reminds me, you should be expecting a visit from him any moment now. He has a present for you_."

"Does it come fully loaded?"

"_And extra ammunition in the bag._"

"You know how to say all the right things to a girl," Mary teased.

"_Yeah, yeah_," he said. "_Now get off the damned phone before you hex somebody's life support._"

Mary rolled his eyes. "Killjoy," she said.

"_Whatever_."

And then he was gone, and Mary could feel the worry settle back in her stomach, but there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she signed out of the hospital, there was no way in hell Stan would let her work on the case. It was official; she was slowly, but surely, going nuts, with nothing to distract her from the disaster zone that she called her family and her life.

There was a tentative knock on the door. "This better be good!" she called out.

Mike poked his head in the door. "Your sister is here to see you, Mary," he said.

Mary frowned; she hadn't been expecting that. She figured Brandi would give her a wide berth until she thought Mary had calmed down. "Send her in," she said.

The door widened, and Lauren stepped into the room. "Hi."

"Wow," Mary said, after a moment. "_You've_ got some nerve."

"It must run in the family," Lauren joked nervously.

Mary gave her a long look. "Pull up a chair," she said.

* * *

It was, Marshall decided, like searching for an invisible needle, in a very large haystack, without a magnet.

The FBI investigation in Chicago weren't having any luck in tracking down the hitman's true identity, either, and the CCTV footage from the hospital hadn't helped. He'd already rung the Butlers and told them to get ready for yet another move and, as he didn't know how the assassin was getting his intel, Marshall couldn't rely on his usual supply of hotel and motel rooms.

Luckily, Eleanor had been able to secure a new bolt hole for him with a few phone calls - a small apartment on the other side of town, and no obvious money trail leading back to the Marshal's office. The department's accountant was going to hate him by the end of the month.

He eyed the security footage on his laptop. He didn't care how good this guy was, everyone made mistakes. A thought occurred to him, and he fast forwarded the footage and watched as the suspect stepped onto the bus. He had taken the crosstown bus, which meant he was probably staying somewhere in the north west of the city. Not many hotels out there, which only left the bed and breakfasts.

He stood up. "Eleanor, do we have CCTV footage from the crosstown bus yesterday?"

Eleanor didn't look away from her screen as she held up a disc. "Stan wants to see you when he gets in, by the way," she said. "Don't disappear before then."

"Who do you take me for, Eleanor?" Marshall asked, amused, as he crossed the room. "Mary?"

She looked up from her computer screen and pinned him with a look. "I'm not Stan, Marshall," she said. "I know that Mary is responsible for a lot of the crazy between you too, but _I'm _the one who gets to file all your reports, and I know that you can be just as single minded as she is, when it comes to your witnesses and your partner. Don't do anything stupid." She handed the disc to him, and Marshall opened his mouth. "Ah-ah," she said, stopping him. "Don't say anything unless it's the absolute and total truth."

Marshall kept his mouth closed. He felt it was safer that way.

**TBC**

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Mary had suffered a lot of awkward moments in her eventful life; moments that, if she was honest with herself, shaped her more than she'd like to admit to.

When Mary was five, she started school with just a copybook and a pencil. Jinx had saved for three months to put enough by for her uniform and books, but her father had found her stash and had blown it on a hot tip at the track. The next week, her father's luck changed and Mary got her books and uniform, but she still remembered the increasingly thin lies she'd had to tell her teachers, and the pity on their eyes.

But that still didn't quite prepare her for that fateful day when, just before her seventh birthday, she watched her father being arrested on the evening news. Since then, life had seemed to be full of awkward disappointments; the kind that are almost inevitable when you're the daughter of an alcoholic, and degenerate gambler on the run from the law.

Mary realised that this was going to be another one of those days.

"Before you ask, I don't know where he is," Lauren said.

"I don't believe you," Mary said flatly. "You lied to my mother, my sister, and to _me_. You've already proved you can't be trusted and, so far, you haven't done anything to change my opinion."

Lauren took a deep breath. "Okay, I deserve that," she admitted. "But you have to understand my life has been a pretty strange place, the last few months. I went from thinking my Dad was this nice, normal guy, to finding out he is a recovered gambling addict, who used to rob banks for a living - and that's not even bringing up the fact that I've disovered I have two older sisters that I never knew about, and that Dad forgot to divorce your Mom before he married mine."

"And that's it? You're just going to play the injured party?" Mary gave her a disgusted look. "Let me guess, the bug just happened to slip out of your bag and into my _house._"

Lauren moved uncomfortably in her seat. "Yeah, not one of my finest moments, but you know how convincing Dad can be when he wants to be."

"Not so much, actually," Mary lied. "It's been a while since dear old Dad and I hung out – are you clean now, or is he listening in to _this_ conversation, too? "

"He doesn't even know I'm here," she admitted. "In fact, I haven't seen him since I was here the last time."

Alarm bells went off in Mary's mind. "This was never about coming to see how I was, was it?" she asked, intuitively, as she saw the indecision in Lauren's eyes. "You're looking for something."

"It's a bit of both," Lauren admitted. "I...I...think Dad may be in trouble and you were the only person I knew who might be able to help him – who'd_ want_ to help him."

"Lauren, here's a newsflash, Dad's still a wanted felon. Even if was willing to go look for him, I'd still have to turn him in if I found him," Mary said.

Lauren blinked. "Oh my God, I thought you knew," she said. "You know, with you being a marshal and all..."

"Knew what?" Mary asked, not sure that she really wanted to know the answer.

"Dad is in witness protection, he has been for the last thirty years. He got a totally clean slate; new name, new start—"

"New _family_," Mary finished for her. "I know the drill – shit, how did I not see this coming?" She grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table, wishing it were a scotch.

"The thing is, Dad disappeared about three months ago, and all he left behind was that letter for Jinx, and the listening device, along with your address and three lines: _I need to know if they're okay, too. Put it in the house. See you soon - love Dad_ She took a deep breath. "Five days later, two marshals turned up at the door. They'd found Dad's car and it was a burned out shell – that's when I found out Dad was in witness protection, and that my real name was Shannon."

Mary's mind reeled, her mind going through all the possibilities. "We need Marshall," she decided. "He's better at cutting through all the bureaucratic bullcrap than I am."

"I don't think he likes me very much," Lauren said.

Mary smirked. "He's my partner," she said. "That's kind of his job."

* * *

It hadn't taken Marshall too long to find the guest house the hitman was holed up in. In fact, it had all seemed a little _too _easy.

Marshall sighed silently, as he looked around the guest room. It was immaculately kept, and a quick search of his clothes revealed crisply folded jeans and tightly rolled socks. It appeared some habits died hard. He heard the tremulous cough from the landing, and he turned to look at the door, which was still ajar. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Brian isn't in too much trouble, is he?" the landlady, Mrs Edgar, asked. "It's just that he seemed such a nice young man."

"I'm afraid we have to follow every lead, ma'am," he said, not having the heart to tell her that the name he gave her, Brian Philips, was most likely fake. His eyes flickered around the room, and fell on the router on the small desk. "Does he usually take his laptop with him?"

"Laptop?" the woman echoed "I don't think I've ever seen him with one."

"I see," Marshall looked around the room. He had already checked the wardrobe, the desk and the drawers, which only left one place...

He bent down, and looked under the bed. An old fashioned looking suitcase was pushed under it. Carefully, Marshall checked for obvious signs of tampering, and then slid it out slowly from under the bed. He pressed the release button on the clasp, and the lid popped open. Inside was one of those mini-laptops that seemed to be everywhere nowadays, and the power light was on. Marshall took out a pen, and carefully lifted the lid - a clock was ticking down on the screen.

"Uh, ma'am," Marshall said hoarsely. "Are we the only people in the building?"

"Of course, I don't allow my guests to occupy the rooms until two. It gives me time to clean--"

But Marshall already had her by the elbow, and was ushering her towards the door. According to the clock, they had about ninety seconds - it was timed a little too perfectly. There was something he was missing. He ushered the landlady down the drive, and eyed the properties to either side. They were a good distance. He took out his phone and called Stan.

"I think we may have a probl--"

BOOM!

The windows blasted out, in a shower of glass, And Marshall automatically covered the woman.

"_Marshall? Marshall/ are you still there?_" Stan's voice was shouting down the phone, and Marshall winced as he slowly stood.

"Stan, I'm fine," he said, as he helped Mrs Edgars to her feet. "But we're going to need a fire brigade, and an ambulance...and a CSI team."

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Mrs Edgar said, as she stared at the blaze erupting from the second floor of her home.

"_It was a bomb?_" Stan asked.

"It had a timer and went boom," Marshall drawled. "I think it's a fair conclusion." He eyed the street for anything unusual. Nothing stood out, but he didn't really expect it to. Whoever this guy was, he was a pro.

"_Damn it!_" Stan muttered, "_It's official. We have a leak._"

"I'm guessing it's from outside the Marshall's office," Marshall agreed. "Or else he wouldn't be wasting his time trying to flush me out. The Butlers would already be dead."

"_You realise he's probably watching you right now?_"

"The thought has occurred to me." He said evenly. "But seeing as I can't exactly do anything about that, I'm just going to stand here and act natural until the cops turn up."

"_I'll get a marshal in from LA to cover you—_"

Marshall pulled a face. "I'd rather you didn't," he said.

"_Tough,_" Stan said. "_If you'd agreed to work with someone while Mary was out of commission—"_

"Aha, aha, ha," Marshall said. That's funny, Stan, that really is - because Mary isn't pissed _enough _at the moment."

_"Marshall, you can't always tiptoe—_"

"I'm guessing that I'm off the Butler case until this guy is caught, right?" Marshall interrupted.

A sigh came down the phone. "_Yeah,_" he admitted.

" I'll just go pay Mary a visit, then," Marshall said. "If that's okay with you?"

Another sigh. _"Knock yourself out,_" Stan said. "_Just try not to blow up the hospital_."

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Mary said slowly. "One day everything was sunshine and roses, and the next he just disappeared?"

Lauren nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

"And the marshal's that came to your door didn't have any leads?"

"No. Nothing."

"Right, I'll need their names. Maybe I can—"

There was a soft tap on the door, and Mary looked up as Bobby's popped head in. "Special delivery." he said, holding up a carry all. Mary recognised it as one of her own.

"At last," she said, "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've left the house unarmed?"

"Grade school?" Bobby teased.

"Oh, you're a real comedian," Mary grumped, snatching the bag from him. "Ooooh, chocolate!" She wrinkled her nose at the other item in the bag. "And a pager." She snorted. "As if I was going to give Brandi her phone back anytime soon."

Bobby shook his head in bemusement. "You know you're not quite right in the head, don't you?"

"It this going to be another one of those backhanded compliments," she asked.

"Not when you're wearing that nightie, it isn't," he said.

Mary looked down at the flannel nightshirt she was wearing. It had been a present from Marshall and had penguins on it. She shrugged, "I have chocolate and ammunition," she stated, as she began to load her gun. "Nothing is going to get me down." There was tap on the door, and Mary groaned. "If this is one of those karmic moments, I am _so_ gonna be pissed," she said. The door slowly opened, and Mary rolled her eyes.

"Oh, for crying out loud, just come in, already, Mike," she said, impatiently, as her phone began to ring. A quick glance at the screen told her it was Marshall. "I don't know what Dershowitz told you, but I not _that_ scary—"

Her eyes flicked up, and it took her a moment to process the fact that Mike had a gun to his head; her eyes automatically went to her gun on the bed, but she already knew she'd be dead before she reached for it. Bobby was already raising his hands in his air, as was Lauren, but there was no way in hell Mary was going to risk pulling her stitches just to oblige this guy. The cell phone rang out, and she calculated how long it would take for Marshall to get to the hospital. Twenty, twenty five minutes, tops.

"This isn't very bright of you, you realise," she said, aloud. "You're holding a gun on two cops and a federal agent; they'll never stop hunting you now."

"I notice that you didn't ask me who I was," the hitman said.

"I don't need to know who you are, just what," she said. "And, I've got to say that this is pretty sloppy work."

"As long as it gets the job done," he said. "_You._" His eyes fell on Dershowitz,. "Put your piece on the bed, beside the marshal's gun – _slowly_." He paused. "And the piece on your ankle too**."**

"I don't understand," Lauren said. "What's going on here?"

"A bad day at the office," Mary muttered, as Brandi's cell phone began to ring again. The hitman grinned.

"He's pretty insistent, isn't he?" he asked. "You'd better answer."

"Nah, it's probably nothing," Mary said. "He probably forgot where he left his doughnuts again. I'll call him back later."

His face went cold. "Answer it," he said, as he pushed his gun into Mike's temple. "Or I'll blow this rookie's head off."

Mary reluctantly picked up the phone, and answered. "Hey, Marshall," she said.

_"Shit,_" he said, at once. "_He right there with you, isn't he?_"

"Yup," she said.

"_I should have seen this coming. Hang tight, I'm on my way._"

"Marshall, don't do anything stupid—" But it was too late, he'd already hung up.

The hitman smiled once more. "Let's make ourselves comfortable while we wait, eh?" he said, as he snatched the guns from the bedcovers, and pushed Mike over to Bobby's side.

Lauren whimpered quietly, but Mary couldn't allow herself be distracted by that. In less than twenty minutes, Marshall was going to come through that door and, knowing him, he'd do anything to make sure she got out of this room alive.

Even if it ended up killing him.


End file.
